


The Visit

by UndyingEmbers



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, The Watcher Being a Parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22168453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UndyingEmbers/pseuds/UndyingEmbers
Summary: A few years after the events of Deadfire, Tekēhu visits Amali at Caed Nua. For the most part, he has a wonderful time with his lover, but he also finds himself caught between a feud between her and her daughter, Vela.
Relationships: Tekēhu/The Watcher
Kudos: 8





	The Visit

Caed Nua was absolutely magnificent. Tekēhu’s jaw nearly dropped at the sight of those large walls surrounding the castle, lined with towers looking down on the well-kept grounds below. It looked even better inside those walls. Caed Nua was bustling with kith coming in and out, the castle staff hurrying about their duties, visitors taking up at some kind of inn near a fountain. As Tekēhu walked in with the small throng of people, he took in the sights of the gardens laden with harvest, the forum where a musical troupe was playing, the small shops sitting near the wall. A large mosaic was built into the ground depicting the eye of the Watcher. It was the sight of where the Endless Depths of Od Nua were buried, where the giant adra colossus rose from the ground and began making its way to the archipelago.

Tekēhu looked around and smiled. He had heard great things about Caed Nua. He was glad that Amali didn’t disappoint.

It didn’t escape him that he was drawing a lot of attention. Very, very few people outside the Deadfire have ever seen a marine godlike. He didn’t mind the stares, though it was somewhat of a relief that the attention didn’t come with the expectations of his people. He stopped an old human woman to ask her where Amali was.

“I’d try the keep,” she said. “If Lady Amali isn’t out here or out doing an errand or some sort, she’s usually holed up in there, working on some project or another.”

He thanked her and headed for the keep’s doors.

Tekēhu’s excitement over visiting his lover at Caed Nua had been almost completely marred by the two human oafs guarding the keep’s door.

“I won’t say it again, fishboy,” said the muscular, red-haired guard with the thick mustache. “If you want to see Lady Amali, get yourself to Brighthollow and wait for an appointment like the rest of her petitioners.”

Tekēhu crossed his arms. “I say you are not fit to guard a pantry, let alone the lady of Caed Nua. Ekera, you can be assured that she will hear of this.”

The guard’s face turned as red as his mustache. “Listen, I don’t care who you think you are, I don’t have to listen to your insults!”

“Ekera, I have told you already,” said Tekēhu. “I am…

“Yeah, yeah,” said the tall, wiry, blond (and actually rather handsome) guard. “You’re Ondra’s welp and Lady Amali’s cheap toss.”

Tekēhu huffed and pointed at the man. “I’ll have you know that I was a very excellent toss.”

The blond guard rolled his eyes. “If you’re another one of her suitors, then send a letter to her Steward. The gods know our fires could use more kindling.”

Both guards laughed at that joke. Tekēhu made a mental note to tease Amali about her suitors later.

“I say your humor is as dull as your teeth,” said Tekēhu. “You must let me in.”

“Tekēhu?” After three years, that voice was like a drink of sweet, clear water after a long trek in the desert: smooth and confident with a Vailian accent that was milder than Tekēhu remembered. He turned around. Amali rode towards him from the western wall. The death godlike looked as beautiful as she ever had: skin with the color of dark, full lips painted with a dark red lipstick, thick, curling smoke coming out the back of her head, and two bulbous tumors covering her face that grew up into a pair of black, twisting horns. The two guards stood at attention.

As soon as Amali reached him, she dismounted her horse and threw her arms around him. Tekēhu held her tightly, breathing in the scent of her perfume as well as the undertone of freshly dug-up soil that had always clung to her skin.

“Are you giving my guards a hard time?” Amali asked.

“Why do you always assume it’s me?” Tekēhu asked with a pout.

Amali turned to the two guards. “Never mind him. You’re doing a great job.”

“Thank you, my lady.” The red-haired one saluted.

She rubbed Tekēhu’s arms. “Come on. Let’s get you warmed up.”

She took him into the keep. Tekēhu didn’t know what Caed Nua had looked like before, but he could see Amali’s handiwork all over the inside. The great hall was massive, with a high-vaulted ceiling, ornate columns and archways, paintings decorating the walls, and a long carpet along the marble floor leading up to a luxurious wooden throne with purple cushions. The Steward stood on a grand pedestal to the right of it. Tekēhu and Amali said a quick hello to her before moving on.

“So, have you restored it the way it was?” asked Tekēhu.

“More or less,” said Amali. “Though, I did take some time to add new features. Come, let me show you.”

The first area she took him was through the dungeon (which Tekēhu was very happy about and teased her about potential implements the jailors could use on prisoners) and down another level.

It opened to a large pit. Amali and Tekēhu stood on a mezzanine of some sort with a railing. Tekēhu recognized some of the strange creatures that walked along the floor: a floating eye, a puddle of green ooze, a bipedal creature made of eyes and tendons.

“The creatures from Wael’s sanctum,” said Tekēhu. An aumaua woman with blue, striped skin was tending to them. She wore the robes of Wael.

“Yes,” said Amali. “I’ve actually found homes for most of the creatures we’ve found on our travels. These ones don’t have anywhere else to go, on account of their natural habitat having imploded. Also, they’re actually somewhat dangerous. I couldn’t simply let them loose or hand them off to someone else.”

The bipedal creature, pulled back a layer of ligaments around its head, revealing two rows of tiny sharp teeth and jumped at its handler. Only a timely shield summoned by her faith saved the priestess from a gruesome encounter.

Amali pulled Tekēhu’s hand. “Come on, let me show you the studio.”

Amali took Tekēhu to a vast, spacious room, well-lit on account of the giant window on the back wall. The floor was filthy, with patches of spilled paint and stone chippings lying everywhere. There were about a dozen easels and a few sculptures, some covered, some not. Tekēhu recognized her style immediately: detailed almost to the point of obsession, painted almost entirely in dark shades of blue or grey, and depicting subjects that others would find disturbing or uncomfortable. Tekēhu loved all of them; they were as dark and beautiful as Amali was. He still kept the painting of deep-sea life that she had given him.

“I’ve been working on them all year,” she said. “There’s a yearly art gallery in Defiance Bay, and I always make sure to bring a collection.”

“An art gallery?” said Tekēhu. “Is there a chance that I could enter a few pieces? When is it? I could get a few sculptures done, I say.”

“Maybe two weeks from now,” said Amali. “I’ll see if I can put in a good word for you.”

She ran over to a covered easel in the center, a wide smile on her face. “This is the one I’m most proud of.”

She pulled off the tarp. Tekēhu gaped as soon as he saw it. It depicted a tower continuously folding in on itself in impossible geometries, entwined with a long, silver vine that branched outward and inward.

He could get lost in that shape forever.

They ran into Vela on their way to the master bedroom. The little orlan shouted his name as she came running down the hall.

“Teku!” she jumped up to him, forcing him to catch her in a hug. Though she was only eight years old, the orlan was already almost into early adolescence

“Aren’t you supposed to be at lessons?” asked Amali.

Vela smiled at her mother. “It’s okay. Meraud said I could leave early.”

“Did she now?” asked Amali.

“Did you bring me anything?” Vela asked Tekēhu.

“Vela,” said Amali.

Tekēhu laughed and set Vela down. “It is no burden, I say.” He set down his pack, opened it, and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for: a small parcel wrapped very carefully in many layers of cloth and paper. Unwrapping it, he revealed a three-pronged stone carving of a coral. Tekēhu concentrated on gathering moisture from the air (he was very proud that he could do that now instead of relying on readily-available water), calling the water to his hand, and waved it around the statue. The water formed into a magnificent boat and a school of beautiful fish that Tekēhu then willed to continuously float around the stone coral. Vela looked on in awe. He handed his new creation to Vela by the base, and she accepted it gingerly.

“Thanks!” she said.

Just then, another orlan who was actually rather tall for her species with dark fur and green eyes stomped towards them. She had a towel around her shoulders, and her dark hair was dripping with what looked like milk.

“You little hellion!” she exclaimed, grabbing Vela by the shoulder.

“Ow, careful, this thing’s delicate,” said Vela, holding up the sculpture.

“What happened?” asked Amali.

The other woman looked up at Amali. “My lady,” she said in a respectful, but stern voice, “your daughter balanced a pail of goat milk over my shelves and had it drop right in the middle of our algebra lesson.”

Amali rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry, Meraud. I’ll have a talk with her later.”

“Mom…” said Vela.

“Later,” said Amali. “And don’t ever lie to me again.”

Vela looked like she was about to say something else, but the young orlan frowned and let herself get dragged away by her tutor.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” said Amali.

“Ekera, it is no trouble,” said Tekēhu. “How has she been doing?”

“Difficult,” said Amali. “Difficult, but well I think.” She smiled.

Amali led him to the master bedroom. Tekēhu was almost stunned. It could probably house a dozen people and leave plenty of room for them to eat and change, among other things.

It was furnished with a large writing desk that had a bookcase on either side of it; a dark wooden table with a white lace tablecloth and an ornate silver candlestick; a vanity and wardrobe; a wine cabinet; a fireplace with an ornately-carved mantlepiece that had an assortment of memorabilia: a stone carving that her parent had given her, a small portrait of Vela, a spider figurine, and a magnificent shell that Tekēhu had given her (he called up some more water and renewed the water ribbons that where supposed to weave around it); and a huge four-poster bed. Tekēhu estimated that maybe four or five aumaua men could comfortably have a wild night in that bed. The mattress was so thick that Tekēhu wondered if he would fall into it, the covers were a lush, deep red with floral patterns weaved into them.

Amali took a bottle of Dyrwooden red out of the wine cabinet and poured two goblets for them. Tekēhu knew that she did not have cheap tastes.

He looked out the window. He had a direct view of the green and yellow tiled mosaic on the grounds below. It was almost amusing that Amali would have to look down on the entrance of Od Nua’s depths every day, though knowing her, she had probably designed it that way.

She handed him a cup of wine, which he accepted and drank.

“How do you like the cold?” she asked.

“Well enough,” said Tekēhu. “I bought a coat in Defiance Bay.”

“We’ll have to take a trip,” said Amali.

“Ekera,” said Tekēhu. “Why was I held up at the keep’s door? Don’t the people here know who I am?”

Amali smirked and crossed the arm that wasn’t holding her cup. “Well, excuse me, I didn’t expect you to just arrive unannounced.” She took a drink.

“I’m sorry, was there a protocol for visiting the love of my life?” he teased.

She walked up to him and put a hand on his chest. “You could have at least written that you were coming.”

“Forgive me,” he said in a low voice. “I was so eager to come see you, I couldn’t wait for the letter to reach you.”

She removed her hand from his chest and reached up to cup his face. Tekēhu melted the moment her cool, but soft hand touched his skin for the first time in three years.

“If you’re going to be staying here, you will need a very thorough lesson on manners and etiquette,” said Amali.

Tekēhu chuckled. “Lead the way, captain.”

Amali took both their wine goblets and set them on the bedside table. They closed the curtains and locked the door. First, Amali punished him for causing a commotion with the guards. Then they spent a good long while catching up on what they had missed in the past three years.

Gods, he had missed her.

“How long are you staying?” she asked as they lay entwined in each other’s arms.

“I wasn’t sure,” said Tekēhu. “As long as you will have me, I suppose. Ekera, I know that’s not how you do things, but among the Huana, we never kept track of schedules and appointments the way you do until the trading companies came to our islands.”

“I could keep you forever,” said Amali. “But you must at least stay the winter. It’s a very long trip home, and I’d hate to imagine you stuck on a boat in the cold.”

“Winter it is, then,” said Tekēhu. “Will you show me the sights of your previous adventures?”

Amali laughed. “Oh, where should we start? We could go to Guilded Vale and see that large tree where all the bodies used to hang off of or the xaurip-infested Engwithan ruins where I first Awakened. We could always head down to Defiance Bay and see how the Brackenbury Sanitorium is doing since it’s been so long since it had gotten burned down; or you could help me get a vessel-infested district back under control; or we could visit the underground theatre where the city’s youths got kidnapped and theatrically tortured to death for a nobleman’s amusement; or secret Woedican temple in the sewers.

“If you’d prefer a country tour, we could go to the empty estate of the lord that I had killed twice, see some traumatized villages still recovering from the Hollowborn Crisis. If we’re lucky, we may catch sight of some pwgras, trolls, and wychts,” she concluded cheerfully.

Tekēhu laughed. “As long as you are there to protect me, I will have no worries I say.”

Amali hummed and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

Tekēhu sighed and held her close. “Ekera, as am I.”

***

The two of them and Vela went shopping in Defiance Bay. Amali wanted to make sure that Tekēhu had enough clothes for the winter, and they both wanted to stop by the art gallery so Amali could arrange for Tekēhu to display his water sculptures, but they also did manage to slip in a tour of the city, visiting some of the place Amali had adventured. It was every bit as sordid as she had described, but Tekēhu felt safe with his captain. Vela even piped and declared that she would also protect him.

He attracted attention wherever they went, being the only marine godlike in the Dyrwood right now, but, like with Caed Nua, it was different kind of attention. Some gaped openly, others tried to pretend not to. There was a distinct lack of expectation in that attention, which was a relief, but caught an edge of wariness, some even going so far as to shy away from him.

One thing that remained constant. As long as he was with Amali, everyone’s attention would eventually shift over to her. Wherever they went, people greeted her with a smile. She was very well-known, it seemed, and in a very good way.

It felt wonderful to be in the presence of a savior again.

***

Since Tekēhu was to stay in the Dyrwood for a while, Amali had insisted that he learn how to ride a horse. Horses were not native to the Deadfire, and the only ones he had ever seen were either of Vailian or Rautai stock, and he only really saw them in Neketaka and in other large ports that justified keeping these large and high-maintenance animals. He was curious to see what sort of Dyrwoodan beast Amali would pick out for him.

Her stablehand walked into the courtyard with a massive, black and while piebald Dyrwoodan draft horse. It had a long mane and tail, and long fur around its hooves.

“Ekera, do you take me for a man or a carriage?” Tekēhu asked jokingly, holding his hand out to pet the horse.

“They’re strong, but gentle,” said Amali, “which is what you need.”

“How am I supposed to mount it?” asked Tekēhu.

Another stablehand brought out a mounting block. After helping Vela up onto the shaggiest pony Tekēhu had ever seen, Amali mounted her own horse from the ground.

Once Tekēhu got up onto the horse, Amali instructed him on the proper way to sit in the saddle and hold the reins, and the three of them set out into the nearby woods. A cadre of guards followed them, something Tekēhu found amusing. He and Amali were twenty times more powerful than anything they would find in these woods.

Tekēhu tried not to feel silly as he sat in the saddle with his hands up holding the reins and his back straight. This was not getting into the times his horse had to stop to relieve itself or try to eat the last patches of grass that remained this late in the autumn. Amali’s posture was immaculate, yet she seemed very comfortable on her chestnut mare. Vela was literally going in circles around them, trotting up ahead, then turning her horse around and trotting back.

“Hey Teku,” said Vela, riding her pony up beside his enormous steed. “Have you ever seen a kraken.”

“Many times, dear one,” said Tekēhu. “Being Ngati’s choosen allows me to see many of Her wonders.”

“Heels down,” Amali commanded.

Tekēhu pouted, but he corrected himself.

“Wanna race?” Vela asked.

She hardly gave him any time to respond before kicking her pony into a trot and taking off again. A few guards rode after her.

Ekera, why not?

Tekēhu tried kicking his horse into action, but the stubborn thing refused to go any faster. Amali clicked her tongue to encourage his horse to go. When that didn’t work, she rode up to his horse’s head and grabbed a hold of its bridle.

“Come on, I think we can catch up to her,” she said. She urged her mare into a trot, pulling Tekēhu’s horse along until it also sped up. He wasn’t used to the sudden bouncing movements. He reflexively grabbed a hold of the saddle to steady himself.

The two horses easily caught up with the little pony, but before they could overtake her completely, Vela kicked her mount into a canter at the last leg of the race, beating them.

As the girl let out a victory cry, Amali turned to Tekēhu. “Want to try a canter?”

“Ekera, yes,” said Tekēhu.

Still holding his horse’s bridle, Amali urged her horse on, clicking her tongue. The horses sped into a canter, the bounciness giving way to a smooth, rhythmic gait.

Amali let go of the bridle. Her mare was somewhat faster than his large gelding, but his mount wasn’t slow. The cold wind bit into his face, pushing his tentacle hair back.

It felt incredible.

Amali let out a laugh. She looked amazing, confident in her posture, the wind blowing her smoky hair. He wanted to follow her forever.

Suddenly, his horse stumbled on a rock. Before he knew it, Tekēhu was on his back on the cold, packed dirt below. His horse regained its footing and trotted away.

Amali circled her horse back and dismounted next to him. “Are you all right, _chattinet_?” she asked.

He smiled. “Ekera, I’m fine.”

She helped him up. As soon as he was on his feet, he pulled her into a kiss. She grabbed onto his coat and kissed him back fiercely. They pulled away, breathless.

“Horses are fun, I say,” said Tekēhu, “but when we return to Caed Nua, you should take me for a ride.”

***

Tekēhu spent a lot of his time by the river near Caed Nua making water sculptures. The castle’s residents would often come by and gawk at the beautiful creations he would make. He wished he could go for a swim, but sadly the water was too cold, and Amali had warned him that the currents were strong.

The water felt so different here. Not only was it much colder than the sea by the Deadfire, but the so-called clear water was laden with so many minerals. That, combined with the cold and the fact that there was more land than water here gave the water an inertia that was not present in the Deadfire. Tekēhu had hoped that, since the water was more stubborn and heavy, that it would better retain its shape even if it was somewhat harder to sculpt. It was not the case. The water just wanted to flow _down_ , requiring more persuasion and maintenance.

Of course, for Ngati’s chosen, such an obstacle was a mere trifle. With the power he had learned at Ukaizo, Tekēhu could divert the whole river if he wanted to.

One day, Vela crept up to the river while he was working. The orlan girl rushed to a nearby bush and hid from the castle’s view.

“Pretend you’re still working,” said Vela. “I’m supposed to be taking a lesson.”

“Dear one, we’re the only ones out here,” said Tekēhu.

“Shh,” said Vela. “Pretend you’re not talking to me.”

Tekēhu chuckled. “All right.” He went back to working on the giant water nautilus. He frowned at the string-like tentacles coming out of its mouth. They were sagging when they should be waving. He immediately set to correct that.

“How’s Edér?” asked Vela asked.

“I’m not sure,” said Tekēhu. “I hardly get a chance to see anyone from the old crew, I say, though I think he’s still on Hasango with that boy he rescued.”

“How about Uncle Serafin?” she asked. “He said he’d write to me, but I haven’t heard from him in ages.”

“That old rascal?” Tekēhu responded. “I say he’s still roaming the Deadfire, terrorizing slavers everywhere. Ekera, if I see him again, I’ll be sure to give him a good soak for keeping you waiting.”

Vela stayed with him for over an hour, asking him even more questions about the going-ons in the Deadfire. Tekēhu was only too happy to spin her some stories about the vast sands of Poko Kohara, the jungles of Motare o Kōzi, and the discoveries his people have made in Ukaizo. Vela listened with rapt attention, chiming in with a question or two every so often.

Suddenly, Vela crouched behind the bushes again.

“Pretend you’re still sculpting!” she whispered urgently.

Tekēhu turned his attention back to his nautilus. He didn’t even skip a beat.

Amali approached the river from the castle. The dead leaves and dry soil crunched under her fine leather boots as she stormed towards him. As she got closer, he could see that she actually looked emotionally hurt. Her lip was quivering, and the anger was practically pulsing from her.

“Have you seen Vela?” she asked.

“I…” Tekēhu began. A lie was right on the tip of his tongue. Had it been anyone else in front of him, the lie would have rolled out from his lips easily, but this was his captain and lady love. He had once told himself that he would deny her nothing. Now he was caught between her and her daughter.

“You really can’t find her anywhere?” he finally managed to say. “I mean…she couldn’t have gone far.”

Amali crossed her arms and gave him a hard look, and Tekēhu knew that he had been caught.

“Who were you talking to just now?” she asked.

He couldn’t stop her from walking towards the bush. Vela tried to sneak away, but Amali had the keenest senses out of everyone Tekēhu knew and the reflexes of a cat. Vela squirmed as Amali pulled her out of the bushes.

“Let go!” said Vela.

“Vela,” said Amali, “was it you who took my centerpiece painting from the gallery?”

“Why do you think it’s me?” Vela protested.

“Don’t play games with me,” said Amali. “I’ve asked the entire staff, and no one has been in the gallery today except you. Now you will take me to where the painting is or so help me.”

Vela glared at her mother but relented as the death godlike dragged her back to the castle. Amali didn’t even look at Tekēhu as she stormed off with her daughter. From the disappointed look Vela gave him, he could tell that he was in trouble with her too.

Dinner that night was very awkward. It turned out that Vela had hidden the painting in a very tall and drafty tower that overlooked the stables. Unfortunately, before Vela could show Amali where the painting had been, a strong wind had carried the painting out the window and swirled it down into the muck of the stables. By the time they had recovered it, the painstakingly-crafted geometric masterpiece had been blurred and stained far beyond repair.

Vela was to sweep the kitchen floors for two weeks. Throughout the evening, the orlan girl looked as if she were about to cry from anger and guilt into her spiced potatoes. As for Amali, the anger and hurt that wafted off of her was palpable. She didn’t say a word to anyone as she ate. She was even cold towards Tekēhu; she wouldn’t even look at or acknowledge him.

Ever since Tekēhu’s first night at Caed Nua, he would play them a song or tell a tale at dinner. Tonight, he knew that anything he did or said would only make things worse.

***

Come the day of the gallery, Amali and Tekēhu woke up early after staying overnight at a lighthouse inn in Ondra’s Gift. Vela had been banned from the trip due to the disaster with the centerpiece painting. Amali had both their works set up at a studio in the Copperlane district, and the two of them were doing some last-minute preparations. Tekēhu was having a grand time discussing where everything should go.

“Your blooming coral sculpture does not look best next to my painting of the adra pillar,” said Amali. “We need to move it.”

“But, my love, the lighting in this part of the studio reflects so marvelously off the branches, I say,” said Tekēhu.

“You’ll only get that lighting shortly before noon, _aimoro_ ,” said Amali. “Move it closer to the center and bring your Tower of Neketaka over here.”

“Ekera, only if you move your painting of the devouring hydra,” said Tekēhu. “The vibrance of your piece will take away from the suggestiveness of my tower.”

Soon, the doors opened. A rather large crowd gathered into the studio. Students, nobles, merchants, scholars, collectors, as well as a bunch of Amali’s existing admirers came in to marvel at her work. Tekēhu’s own works also drew in quite a bit of attention. Before long, word had spread over Defiance Bay over his unique sculptures made of water. It was no different from when he showed off his watershaping to foreigners back in Neketaka. This time, however, he was with Amali, someone who was also a very talented artist. Not only did the Lady of Caed Nua draw in as many fans as he did, but something about having his works displayed alongside hers filled him with a welling joy. He had seen her paint before when they had some downtime on her ship, but Tekēhu had always dreamed of seeing her just be an artist, seeing her create and perfect her craft and release them into the world and having his and her worlds merge through their art. That was got him through standing in the same room for hours on end, answering the same questions over and over again.

It was actually a shame that Amali’s beautiful centerpiece couldn’t be shown. Tekēhu would have liked to have had it out for the world to see.

The gallery stayed open until very late at night so that the laborers and day guards could come and see the art after their work was done. When there weren’t too many people looking at their works, Tekēhu or Amali would go to the different rooms to see works created by the other artists in the gallery. Amali had bought and sold quite a few works of art. The paintings she still had left over, she donated to schools and hospitals, particularly the sanitorium in Brackenbury, so that the patients there didn’t have to languish in what was practically a dungeon.

After a long day at the gallery, Amali took him not back to the lighthouse, but to an establishment called The Salty Mast. That place made The Wild Mare look like a child’s attraction. The scent of perfume and drink and smoke cloyed the whole air and covered everything in the brothel like a thick blanket. All around, people gambled, drank, and solicited the sex workers. The upstairs was an explosion of color: yellow and purple and red blankets and pillows scattered in the rooms, boldly-colored painting on the walls, and the cosmetics and garb of the staff here.

It was amazing.

Amali and Tekēhu celebrated a long, hard day with a fine bottle of wine she had purchased and a large, overstuffed bed with way too many pillows.

***

Whichever god had created winter must have been very, very drunk. Or a nihilistic monster with a perchance for the overdramatic like Rymyrgand. The nights were only getting colder and colder, and in these dark moments, when the fires were low and the cold seeped into every stone, Tekēhu just wanted to hide under a mountain of furs and never emerge until spring.

He had no idea why Amali liked winter so much. On their adventures together, she too had felt the touch of Rymyrgand, had know the bone-aching chill, yet almost every morning the death godlike would wake early to draw, to sculpt, and even to play with Vela in the snow.

But it was not in Tekēhu’s nature to sit still and quiet for long. Little by little, he would force himself out from his lover’s large and inviting bed and steal away to other parts of the castle where there was fire and drink and company. Very few guests would come to Caed Nua in this cold, though Amali did take in many travelers and peasants who had come to take shelter. There was always need for the cook and guards and servants to keep the keep clean, but there was almost no one outside. No gardens needed to be tended, and all the horses and other animals were kept in their barns. That he was a musician made him very popular with the castle’s residents, who would otherwise have nothing to do for the winter.

He even got to apologize to the two guards he had met for causing trouble on his first day, though that was just an excuse to see the handsome blond again. The poor guy was even more confused when Tekēhu parted company with a compliment and a wink, but went no further. He would forever belong to Amali.

Tekēhu still kept up with his sculpting. The fountains were not maintained during the winter, but Tekēhu still had the river and would have large quantities of water brought in for him to practice. To his delight, his water sculptures would freeze when left outside, allowing him to make beautiful statues of ice. Before long, the courtyard was littered with his frozen water sculptures.

The cold also gave him an excuse to hold onto Amali every chance he got. Though the death godlike ran a bit colder than most people, she warmed quickly when the two of them huddled closely under the thick blankets by the fire. Their exertions in the bedroom warmed them up even more. When his hands got warm from sculpting the freezing water, it felt sublime to have her take his hands in hers and rub them over a fire.

She also spoiled him to no end. Knowing that he didn’t want to get up, she would bring him breakfast and hot cider in the mornings. She would swaddle and cuddle him even more when he shivered from the cold, and, before she would come to bed, she would warm her hands by a fire and rub his back as they lay beside one another.

One morning, past the time Amali had woken up and left, Vela entered the master bedroom while Tekēhu was still sleeping.

“Teku,” she whispered.

Tekēhu groaned and buried himself more deeply in the blankets. Vela climbed up on the bed.

“Teku,” she insisted, shaking him awake.

“What is it, little one?” he asked, half-yawning.

“Wanna play outside?” she asked. She was wearing a thick coat and trousers and a bright red scarf and hat and a pair of sturdy boots. It just occurred to him that Amali probably would not approve of Vela climbing in this bed with her boots on. It was probably best she didn’t know.

Tekēhu looked up at her expecting expression. “Of course. Just give me a moment to get ready, ekera?”

Vela’s smiled widened. “Yes!” She jumped off the bed and ran out the door, waiting outside. Tekēhu forced himself to leave the warm bed to go put on his winter clothes. He put on about two layers plus his coat. One thing that made the cold even more unbearable was that the tentacles on his head would not permit a hat to go on his head. His little darlings didn’t like the cold anymore than he did and would constantly cling to his scalp or to Amali when she was near, but they could not be persuaded to allow a piece of cloth of leather cover them for warmth. Amali had his coat fashioned with a very large hood that he could lace around his head to keep the warmth in.

He met Vela outside the room once he was bundled up and ready. Vela rushed ahead of him to the large, snow-covered expanse that was Caed Nua’s bailey in the winter. When he caught up with her outside, she surprised him with a snowball to the side and ran behind one of the houses. Tekēhu let out a laugh and used his watershaping to gather the snow into a light, thin, miniature storm around him.

“You tangle with Ngati’s chosen!” he declared. “I hope you are prepared.”

Vela responded by pelting him with another snowball. Tekēhu sent a light flurry in her direction and started chasing her around the bailey. She was fast, and definitely knew the area better than he did, and Tekēhu found that he actually had to put some effort into catching up with her. By then, his coat was peppered with bits of snow and ice where he snowballs had hit him. It devolved into them chasing each other around the bailey, throwing snow at each other.

Tekēhu remembered similar moments when Amali had sailed around the Deadfire. The ship would stop at a beach or small port, and he and Amali would sometimes play with Vela in a lagoon. He remembered shaping the water into various fish for Vela to chase or creating cascades for her to slide around in.

Eventually, Tekēhu fell to the ground, breathless. Vela still looked cheerful, jumping up and down with triumph.

“You have bested Ngati’s chosen,” said Tekēhu. “Now I need to catch my breath.”

Vela jumped at him, trying to pin him down. Tekēhu laughed and gently pushed her away.

“It is too cold for this, I say. Not all of us are covered in fur. The Deadfire heat must have been unbearable for you,” said Tekēhu.

Vela plopped down next to him. “Not at all. I really liked it there. I wish I could go back.”

“Ekera, my poor fish scales are not so adaptable,” said Tekēhu.

Vela pouted and threw herself backwards into the snow.

It was then that Tekēhu noticed something.

“Vela, do you not play with other children?” he asked.

Vela just lay in the snow for a moment. “Not really,” she said. “Commoners are too intimidated to play with the heir of Caed Nua,” she said the last part with a very noticeable scoff, “and the noble kids live too far. There’s no one really here.”

Tekēhu felt a pang of sympathy for the young girl. He had a similar experience with his childhood. He remembered how the other children from his village were either to intimidated or too resentful to want to get close to Ngati’s chosen. He remembered laughter from the beach that would grow silent when he came near. He remembered being kept in the temple for hours on end, forced to wait on ceremony as the other children played outside. He remembered only experiencing joy when he went diving for pearls and shells with his father.

They spent the rest of the morning building structures from snow. Vela practically forced him to help her make ships and Huana structures from the snow. Eventually, he convinced her to come back inside for some hot cider. As they walked back to the keep, Tekēhu glimpsed Amali watching them from one of the windows and smiling at them.

***

Tekēhu wanted to surprise Amali in her study. It was too cold for him to be completely naked under a cloak, but the garments he had chose were revealing enough and easily removable. When he approached the door, he heard her laughter from the other side. He knocked.

“Come in,” she said.

“Ekera, what’s so funny?” he asked as he entered. The study was decorated in a similar style to the master bedroom, except much, much smaller. There was her desk in the corner and an easel off to the side. The walls were lined with bookcases and shelves for scrolls. Right next to her desk stood a tall shelf with glass cases where she kept her pet spiders. Purple curtains draped over the lone window in the room. Amali was reading letters by lamplight.

“Another letter from one of my suitors,” said Amali. She offered it to him.

Tekēhu took it and read it:

_To my dearest enchanting Vailian flower,_

_Every moment without you pierces my thoughts like a thousand poisoned needles through my heart. My dear Watcher, if you could even catch a glimpse of my soul, you would never doubt my words again. When I saw you at the Erl’s ball last summer, Hylea herself must have taken all the beauty from the castle and poured it into your being, for it seemed you shined most brightly against a landscape as dull as grey muck. When you left, I felt nothing but Rymyrgand’s ice-cold grip on my soul._

_If I could ask the gods to grant me one prayer, one miracle, it would be to have you grace the halls of my ancestral palace with your radiance. I would be your most devoted servant for months._

_And if I could ask for just a drop of your gracefulness, I beg you to reconsider my proposal. The combined forces of Caed Nua and Caer Lanhyre would be a force to be reckoned with! A power the likes of Dyrwood…no Eora…has never seen!_

_Your eternal and devoted compatriot,_

_Lord Londre Lanhyre_

Tekēhu cringed. “Amira spare you from such garbage,” he said.

“Well he only proposed to me once, so there’s an improvement,” said Amali.

“Do you often get letters like this?”

“Not many, actually,” said Amali. “Caed Nua had been all but abandoned before Maerwald took it, then a series of misfortunes started affecting him—and me. Not too many people are lining up to take my land after that. Also, my inability to have children has dissuaded potential suitors. Mostly it’s just a bunch of old lords with already large families who are hoping that Caed Nua would pass on to the fourteenth grandchild when I die.”

Tekēhu scoffed. “Their loss, I say, but that just means there’s more for me.”

He made a move to take off his cloak, but Amali continued. “Most proposals I get are actually for Vela. Sadly, the fact that she’s an orlan means that she also gets proposals from elderly human gentlemen, but she is my only heir, so…”

Amali sighed and slumped backwards in her chair. Tekēhu took the opportunity to finally take off his cloak. Underneath it he wore tight-fitting trousers and a loose silk shirt with a very low neckline. He pushed some papers and ink out of the way so he could half-sit, half-lean over the desk.

“I wish she would act like it,” Amali half-mumbled before Tekēhu could say a word of seduction.

“Act like what?” Tekēhu asked.

“It’s just,” said Amali, “I just want what’s best for Vela, but must she fight me at every step?”

“Ekera, of course she must,” said Tekēhu. “You would not believe half the mischief I got into when I was her age.”

“I don’t know,” said Amali. “She pranks her tutors, embarrasses me in front of visitors, does poorly in her lessons, that trick she played with my painting…”

“Ekera, that was an accident,” said Tekēhu. “She never meant to have it ruined like it did.”

Amali sighed. “I know.”

“She’s lonely,” said Tekēhu. “Earlier she told me that none of the other children wanted to play with her.”

“I know,” said Amali. “I’ve been trying. I really have. I’ve even tried inviting families from Eir Glanfath, but no one seems to be interested in staying near Caed Nua. When Edér was mayor of Dyrford, I would send her there to visit, but now there’s no one.”

Amali rubbed her forehead. “I just don’t know what to do. Is it me? Am I doing something wrong as her parent?”

Tekēhu got up, walked towards her, and sat on the desk in front of her. He held one of her hands in his. “It is hard to say. I never imagined myself ever being a parent, but I know you’re doing the best you can.”

“Is that enough?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” said Tekēhu. “Ekera, I’m sorry I cannot offer anything more useful.”

Amali squeezed his hand and took a deep breath. “How has the research in Ukaizo been? I’ve been keeping track of animancy efforts across Eora, and it doesn’t seem like we’ve come much closer to fixing the Wheel.”

“Then you know more than I do,” said Tekēhu. “Though I’ve heard that Onekaza is distrustful of outsiders coming into Ukaizo to study the machines, and the Vailians horde whatever knowledge and experience they have for profit.”

“ _Maddicho_ ,” said Amali. “Those _bazzos_ are still playing politics when the fate of future generations is on the line.” She shook her head. “I should come down and give them a good talking to!”

Tekēhu laughed. “It would be wonderful to have you back, I say.”

Amali sighed through her nose. She looked him up and down. “Thank you for listening to my ramblings. I know you were planning something a little more raunchy tonight.”

“Ekera, it is never a burden,” Tekēhu said, though he couldn’t resist pulling down at his neckline, revealing a bit more of his chest. “Though it is obvious that you need a break.”

***

The days got longer and the air warmer. The ground was damp from the melting snow. Tekēhu felt relief at the turning of the season. As much as he had loved his stay in Caed Nua, he yearned to return to the warm beaches and clear waters of the Deadfire, to return to his art and taste the bounties that his mother Ngati provided. Truly, his home would be perfect if only Amali would come with him. Parting from her would be most unbearable, but he still had work to do in the Deadfire.

With the spring just about here, the castle experienced a newfound invigoration as servants, shopkeepers, stablehands, carpenters, cooks, gardeners, retainers, and masons bustled about, eager to slake off a month-long confinement indoors and prepare Caed Nua for new life.

With winter’s oppression gone, however, old conflicts that had been stewing beneath the surface started to bubble up. One day, while Tekēhu was playing music for Amali in the gardens, Vela’s tutor rushed outside towards them.

“My lady,” she called out. “We can’t find Vela anywhere. She never came to lessons, she wasn’t in her room when we went to go look for her, and none of us can find her anywhere.”

“ _Maddicho_!” Amali exclaimed. She turned to Tekēhu. “Will you help me find her?”

Tekēhu nodded fervently. “Ekera, of course.”

They searched all of Caed Nua for the little orlan, even the secret places that only Amali knew about, to no avail. Amali even organized a search party to look for Vela in the surrounding woods. They had to do battle with wichts and pŵgras as they combed the forest, all the while Amali only got angrier and more intent. In all their time adventuring, Tekēhu had never seen Amali display such fervor, such fury as she flayed the minds of every monster in her path.

The sky grew darker. There was still no sign of Vela, and Amali grew more and more agitated despite Tekēhu’s attempts to calm her.

Eventually, when Amali’s fear and anxiety reached a height that Tekēhu had never seen from anyone, a guard from Caed Nua approached them from horseback.

“My lady,” said the human man, “your beasts have been set loose from the menagerie. All sorts of creatures are coming up from under the tunnels. Caed Nua’s a mad house!”

“ _Merla_!” Amali shouted. “ _Buffa na cuelo di follutin_ , why now?!”

Amali didn’t give the poor man any time to respond before she grabbed one of the spare horses he had brought and rode back to Caed Nua. Tekēhu could only rush to get onto one of the other horses and follow.

The courtyard was in utter chaos. People were running out of the keep, followed by a nightmarish group of floating eyeballs, sentient oozes, and creatures made of sinew and carapaces. Imps were tearing up the newly-planted gardens, and spiders the size of dogs crawled up the shops and the walls.

Amali rushed forward. She reached out to the creatures with her mind, bringing them under her sway just as the aumaua priestess and a few guards ran outside with cages. For the creatures that had minds to enthrall, Amali bade them to enter the cages. For the creatures that did not, she and Tekēhu had to round them up through physical means.

“What happened?” Amali demanded of the priestess.

The other woman dusted herself off. “It was Vela, my lady. One moment, I’m brushing the baby troll, the next thing I know, the cages start opening, and all Hel breaks loose. I got a glimpse of your little sprog before I rush off to get the cages.”

“Where is she?” Amali asked.

“Last I saw, she was still down there,” said the priestess. “Not sure what happened since.”

Tekēhu followed Amali as she rushed down the dungeons and into the sanctum. Down in the pit, the small orlan stood on a box as a creature made of teeth and sinew tried to jump up and bite her. The poor girl looked absolutely terrified as she tried to get away from that monster.

She screamed when the creature almost got close enough to bite her ankle. When she saw Amali, her eyes widened.

“Mom!” she cried, but Amali already jumped over the railing and fell into the pit below. She gathered herself and immediately rushed over. The creature turned and snarled and ran towards Amali. It opened its many mouths all over its head, torso, and limbs, sprang up, and jumped.

Before Tekēhu could even blink, Amali whipped out her pistol and shot the creature right in the face. It fell to the ground and twitched and squirmed in a pile of muscle and bone before it finally died.

Amali ran up to Vela and picked her up in her arms. She took her daughter somewhere under the railing. They emerged from a staircase behind Tekēhu sometime later.

“Gods, are you two all right?” Tekēhu asked. He had a healing spell at the ready.

Amali put Vela down and held her for a good long while. When she pulled away, however, she looked furious.

“You are in big trouble, young lady,” said Amali. “I have been looking for you all day. What were you thinking letting those creatures loose?!”

Vela stared back at her mother defiantly. “You care more about them than you do about me!”

“Don’t start this with me,” said Amali. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“I—” Vela began.

“No!” said Amali. “You will work in the kitchen for a month, and you are _not_ allowed to go on any trips until summer. Is that understood?”

Vela faced her mother, her eyes brimming with angry tears, before she ran away crying.

As soon as Vela was gone, Amali slumped onto the ground. Tekēhu knelt down beside her and wrapped his arms around her.

“Am I a bad mother?” she asked.

“I do not think so, my love,” said Tekēhu.

“I don’t know,” said Amali. “I know she’s not a malicious child, but I really don’t know what to do. She has always been willful, but…”

“If I may,” said Tekēhu, “I think she misses the Deadfire.”

Amali snorted. “It can’t be that simple.”

Tekēhu hummed and held her close. “My poor captain.” He kissed the top of her head. “Always puzzling and worrying over a problem when the answer is staring you in the face, I say. Ekera, I can see it with my own eyes and hear it with my own ears every time she comes to me with questions.”

A moment passed. Amali’s face creased into a worried frown.

“What do I do with that?” she asked slowly. “We can’t go back…”

“I don’t know,” said Tekēhu.

Amali leaned into his chest and groaned in exasperation.

***

Later that evening, Tekēhu went to see Vela, who had shut herself in her room crying.

“Go away,” she sobbed when he knocked on the door.

“Ekera, it is me,” said Tekēhu. “I managed to steal some cake from the kitchen.”

Silence greeted him. Eventually, though, Vela faintly bade him to come in.

Tekēhu opened the door and walked inside. Her room was a mess. The furniture was expensive, just like Amali’s, with a smaller four-poster bed, a desk, an ottoman, and a wardrobe and trunk. Maps were laid haphazardly on her desk, and toy ships and lace dolls littered the floor.

Vela was sitting on her bed, wiping her tears. Tekēhu placed the cake on her bedside table and sat down next to her.

“I hate it here,” she whispered.

“Ekera, I can tell,” he answered.

She threw her arms around him.

“I miss you and Edér and Uncle Serafin and everyone,” she cried. “I’m just so lonely here.”

“I know,” he said.

He didn’t know what else to say, so he just hugged her and let her cry it out.

***

On the last night of his stay, Amali held a small feat for him, after which the two of them engaged in a long, passionate farewell. As much as he would have loved to stay bound to her bed forever, he was excited to finally return home.

The next day, Amali took him to Defiance Bay to catch his ship. Amali had even suspended Vela’s punishment so the orlan girl could see him off. After a long winter, Tekēhu was amazed to see so much green on the carriage ride out of Caed Nua. The blooming flowers that dotted the ground and the trees looked and smelled amazing, and Tekēhu almost regretted not staying longer. The sun felt so warm on his skin, and the air was pleasantly cool, unlike the intense heat of the Deadfire.

He took in one last look of Defiance Bay as the carriage made its way through the streets to Ondra’s Gift. The streets were much more crowded than he remembered. It seemed that everyone was eager to be out and about as the weather got warmer.

As soon as they got to the harbor, Amali’s footman took Tekēhu’s trunk and carried it to the ship. Amali stepped out first and offered Tekēhu a hand. Tekēhu gathered his pack, laden with many gifts that Amali and Vela had imparted to him, and took her hand as he climbed down. Vela followed.

Before Tekēhu ascended the ramp that would take him on board, he and Amali held one another and kissed passionately.

“Eww,” said Vela.

He pulled away, his eyes searching for Amali’s under the tumors on her face.

“Come back to the Deadfire,” he said softly. “The sun gets too hot, and I find myself longing for your shade.”

“We’ll see,” said Amali.

She kissed him once more before letting him go.

“Bye, Teku!” Vela waved energetically as he walked up the gangplank up to the boat.

“Goodbye!” he called out from the deck of the ship.

Amali and Vela watched his ship leave the harbor. Tekēhu stayed on deck and watched as the Dyrwood went out of sight, the ship taking him away from Amali, but closer to the embrace of his mother Ngati.


End file.
